Just 4 Comfort
by poetif
Summary: Just a two-shot about Elliot coming back into her life after a hard day with a little case file thrown in.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: As always not my characters. They belong To Dick Wolf and/or NBC and I'm just borrowing them for a bit. It's my story though so I if you enjoy it let me know. Reviews are always appreciated, good or bad.**

Some say that when it rains, that the angels are weeping. Some believe that rain is cleansing to the earth, that it washes away the old things making them new again. In the late summer of Manhattan, it's been pouring every day for five days.

Five days.

That's how long Jenny McFarlane had been missing.

She was found on the sixth day, discovered by a worker at the city dump, cast away like garbage.

Her young eight year old body was peppered with bite marks, cuts, multi-colored bruises and lacerations. They, along with Munch and Fin took turns sweating Nathan Robinson in the box without success. They had to let him go. Her body was found the next day.

According to Melinda there were no hairs, no fibers and no fluids save for what her young body was tossed through at the dump. SVU had no physical evidence linking Jenny to Nathan Robinson.

What the general public doesn't know is that there's a difference between knowing someone is guilty and being able to prove it.

Olivia's limbs feel heavier. She's feeling every day of her nearly fifty years on the planet. She hasn't bothered with an umbrella. Maybe the rain will do her a favor and cleanse her too. Perhaps the angels are sad about everything that was done to young Jenny while she was with that sadistic son of a bitch.

These are the times Olivia wishes she had some type of faith to rely on. She simply can't imagine the type of loving God that would continually allow such atrocities to happen. Maybe that's why the angels are actually crying, because they can't either. Perhaps they are just as disappointed in God _and_ herself as she is.

Olivia walks with her head down digging in her purse for her keys. She hasn't noticed him standing outside her apartment door. She just wants to get into her place, pour some wine and cry in peace.

He looks relaxed in his blue jeans, sneakers and brown bomber jacket. He has a five o'clock shadow. With nowhere to be, he doesn't really need to shave.

"Hey," he rasps, startling her.

"Elliot," she says. "What's wrong, is it one of the kids," she asks suddenly concerned. Olivia can't fathom what would've brought him to her front door after all this time. It's been months since he sent her that little badge and the Semper Fi note. Always faithful.

Right.

"No, everyone's fine," he responds, smoothing a hand over his head before tucking it back into his pocket. "I called to talk and the captain told me about the McFarlane case."

"Yeah," she says, moving past him. "It was pretty bad. But then again, they all are in one way or another," she adds, opening the door to her apartment. "I'm sure you remember that much," she digs. There was a point when she would've been elated to see him. But, she's learned to live life without him so she's no longer moved.

Olivia doesn't bother turning on any lights. She planned on sitting in the dark listening to the late summer storm rage on outside. If he wants to join her he'll just have to deal with it.

He follows her inside, closing the door behind them both. She disappears into her bedroom to lock away her gun in the bedside table. Olivia changes out of her wet clothes and towel dries her hair half expecting Elliot to be gone by the time she comes back. When she emerges in yoga pants and a t-shirt he hasn't left. Her luck never was any good.

He's still standing just inside her apartment door when she returns. He knows he's not all that welcome. Still, Elliot can see how affected she is. He remembers how the cases involving young children hit her the hardest. As brave a face as she tries to show everyone, he's waiting on the inevitability of it falling away.

"How are you," he asks, removing his jacket to hang on a nearby hook.

Olivia scoffs at the question. When did he start caring again?

"I'm fine," she says automatically, per her usual answer. She enters her kitchen following through with her plans. Olivia retrieves a bottle of Merlot and a glass from a cabinet. "You want some," she asks.

"No. Thanks," he tells her, entering the kitchen. "What happened," he asks, concern marring his face.

She plants one hand on the counter behind her and takes a sip with the other. "What do you want me to say Elliot," she asks rhetorically. "We didn't get the bad guy," she tells him taking another drink.

He approaches her then and takes the glass from her hand, placing it on the counter out of her reach.

"What are you doing," she asks annoyed, trying for the glass again.

He steps in her way, enters her personal space effectively trapping her between him and the counter behind her.

"I'm gonna repeat the question and this time I don't want you to go with your usual response," he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because we both know it's not true," he adds. He's taking liberties, assuming he can still get her to open up to him.

Olivia leans further into the counter trying futilely to create space between them. His proximity won't allow her to keep things bottled up. She feels the tears pooling in her eyes and looks down at her feet, hoping to reign in her emotions. She should've known if anyone would see through her, it would be him.

"How are you really Liv," he says, stuffing his hands in his front pockets again.

"I'm…her body was," Olivia begins but can't hold back the tears any longer. He closes the small distance between them and she fists the t-shirt at his waist with both hands leaning her forehead against his shoulder. "She was only eight years old El," she continues, crying into his shirt.

Elliot doesn't hesitate in putting his arms around her pulling her closer to him. "I'm sorry," he whispers to her.

She just nods, crying harder and louder. Her body shakes against his as everything Olivia's been hiding at work comes pouring out. They stand in her kitchen for long minutes together as he comforts her, rubbing her back and whispering apologies.

Neither of them knows if it's because of Jenny or because he hasn't communicated with someone he used to call his best friend, in months. It doesn't matter, he's here now.

When he hears her breaths even out Elliot knows she's stopped crying. He leans away from her but doesn't release her yet. He runs a thumb underneath both eyes, wiping away the tracks of her tears before returning his hand to her back.

Olivia notices the Jesus tattoo sticking out of the sleeve of his t-shirt. She seems to be in a daze as she runs her hand up his arm taking the sleeve with it, revealing the tattoo completely. She uses the first fingers of her right hand to trace the ink depicting the savior.

"Why did you get this," she asks, nearly whispering.

When he looks down at his arm it's not at the tattoo, he's seen it a million times. Elliot is in awe of the fact that it's Olivia tracing her delicate fingers over his flesh. He returns his gaze back to her and she seems to be mesmerized by it. It worries him because he knows she's seen it before as well.

"I got it when I was in the Marines…after what I saw in Desert Storm. I needed something," he explains.

"Has it worked," she asks, returning her gaze to his eyes without removing her hand from his arm.

"Most of the time," he tells her, giving her a small smile. "But my kids have helped too."

Olivia pulls his hands from behind her, holding them in both of hers. She begins rubbing her thumbs over the old scars of his knuckles.

"Then what happened here," she asks earnestly.

"Those are the times that it didn't," he tells her, pulling his hands away hoping she hasn't noticed the missing gold band. Elliot came there for her, not himself.

Olivia reaches for her wine glass again and this time he doesn't stop her. She moves past him and enters her living room to sit on her sofa.

She drains the glass before placing it on her coffee table. Elliot watches her, grateful she didn't take the bottle with her. It means she's still in control. Though, even in the dimly lit apartment he can see her tears have returned. She's just crying silently now.

He goes to join her on the couch, sitting side by side careful to confirm that thirteen years of boundaries are still in place. Though the deep conversation, dimly lit apartment and the patter of rain against the window seems to be conspiring to strip them slowly away.

Elliot picks up her hand and gives it a squeeze, no longer able to sit idly by as she cries.

"I'm sorry," he says again. He really doesn't know what else to say to comfort her. It seems the words to do that simply don't exist.

"This case got to everyone," she tells him in a stronger voice. "Cragen's probably still sitting at his desk and the rest went to a bar," Olivia informs him. "I just wanted to be alone," she says reaching for her wine glass again before getting up to return to the kitchen.

"You want me to go," he says, standing. And, it's more an observation than a question.

"I'm surprised you're here at all," she tells him, standing at the counter to pour another glass of wine. "It's been awhile." That translates into, _"where the hell have you been?"_

"Had a lot going on," he vaguely explains, sitting on a stool in front of her watching. "I wasn't gonna dump it in your lap on top of leaving you without a partner and a heavy caseload," he continues, clasping his hands on the counter before him.

"Don't Elliot," she says irritated. "You've always done that. Why has it always been acceptable for you to let me tell you what's going on with me but not the other way around," she asks, forcefully sitting down her empty glass. "Poor Olivia has no family of her own so I'll step in, was that it," she adds, pouring her second serving of wine.

"You know that's not true Liv," he asserts. "I've never pitied you. You're the strongest person I know," he informs her. "But right now it looks like you're pitying yourself," he adds watching her gulp half the glass.

They'd always done that for each other. Give that kick in the pants so they can recognize their own mistakes before things got out of hand.

Olivia knows she's not her mother. But she knows that she could be. It's just one more reason she's missed him. Who else was going to call her on her bullshit?

She takes a cleansing breath and looks at the wine bottle. Half of its gone already and she just opened it tonight. Olivia pours the rest of her glass down the sink and returns the bottle to the cabinet.

When she turns back around he's wearing a sincere expression. "I'm sure you did everything you could to find her," he begins. "You always do."

Olivia studies him then. She hears the sincerity in his voice and on his face. That tone has always been a comfort to her in ways she can't name. Elliot returns her gaze with one of his own but it's different. She doesn't remember him ever looking at her in quite that way.

Want.

Before she can question him about it, the calamity of the storm picks up outside. Lightning flashes, thunder rolls and then the lights go out.

"Great," she says in the darkness. "Perfect end to a perfect day," she continues.

He reaches into his pocket and hands her his cell phone.

"Here," he offers. "You can use the glow from it to find a flashlight or something."

"Thanks," she says, taking the phone. Having a habit of decorating from Pier 1 is about to come in handy. She has candles everywhere.

A few minutes after finding a lighter she has nearly all of them lit. They create a soft glow in the small apartment.

"That's better," she says, lighting the final candle.

Elliot found his way back to the sofa after she lit the first candle. He sat there staring as she lit them. He couldn't help himself. It was something about the candlelight that enhanced her already beautiful features. Also is the fact that he's missed her.

"You can have this back", she tells him, handing him his cell phone. "I'm really okay now if you wanna leave," she says. "I'm gonna just try and get some sleep."

"Actually I was wondering if I could crash on your sofa," he asks. "It looks like a blackout, it's late and it's still storming."

"Sure," she says, picking up a candle. "I'll get you a blanket."

Elliot removes his shoes making himself comfortable before lying back on her couch. A few minutes later she returns and hands him the blanket.

"Goodnight El," she tells him.

"Goodnight Liv," he responds, with a small smile.

She doesn't know what brought him to her tonight of all nights. It's not the first bad case she's had since he retired. But it had been the first one with a child so young that it's affected her like this. It's been awhile since she's cried that hard.

She has no clue what's inspired the visit. If it's a late explanation of why he left without telling her, she doesn't need to hear it. She would've liked a better goodbye though.

It's not important. She's too tired to continue to ruminate on such things. Olivia's trying day along with a couple of glasses of wine and the sound of rain against her window, equates to a swift trip to dreamland.

At first her sleep is peaceful. There are innocuous images that have begun many other dreams. She sees blue skies, meadows of multi-colored wild flowers and random streets until the apartment she shared with her mother overlaps the other images.

The argument where she had to kick Serena to stop her from cutting her with a broken vodka bottle is first. Then Olivia watches as her mother stumbles down a street seeing her stop at a subway entrance. She knows what's going to happen and can't do anything to stop it. Her voice doesn't work as she tries to warn her. And, the inevitable happens anyway. Serena tumbles forward in a mess of tangled limbs to the bottom of the stairs.

Lauren Cooper, the FBI agent who reminded her so much of herself is next. One minute they're talking calmly over the case and the next she's sitting in her apartment with the gun to her head. Olivia couldn't do anything then and she can't do anything now. Agent Cooper's gray matter and blood spatter the wall behind her and Olivia's forced to relive the horror.

Images fade to the bathroom of a church.

Sonja's at the sink washing her hands. She doesn't notice the man coming up behind her in the mirror. Sonja looks up just in time to see his reflection. He moves to strangle her but she struggles. Sonja kicks and tries to scream but can't. Olivia's on the other side of the mirror hitting it with her fists trying to break in to help. The killer smashes the back of Sonja's head in another mirror on the other side of the room. He normally likes to take his time but she's pissed him off. Olivia sees the horror on Sonja's face when she sees the knife. She bites him in one last attempt to save her life but he isn't deterred.

Olivia's terrified watching the knife slice across Sonja's throat opening her carotid artery spraying the wall with her blood.

Jenny McFarlane is playing on the slide. Her mom looks down at her cell phone to answer a text. She sends a short message and when she looks back up Jenny's gone. Images fade into the bruised, battered body of little Jenny lying on Melinda's table. Olivia is standing over the girl when she opens her piercing green eyes. She reaches out for Olivia repeatedly asking, "Why didn't you save me?"

From the living room Elliot thinks he's heard something. He's taken his shirt off to better relax but her sofa isn't exactly conducive to sleep. He hears Olivia repeating, "I'm sorry," in her sleep and she's getting louder and more agitated.

He gets off the sofa hurriedly and knocks on her door. When she doesn't respond he enters her bedroom leaning over her form in bed. He calls to her but she continues to toss and turn.

Elliot sits on the bed putting his hand on her shoulder to wake her. Olivia startles sitting up straight. Her breathing is labored, her brow is drenched in sweat and tears are streaming down her face.

He takes one look at her pained expressing and pulls her in to an embrace. A short while later, her tears subside and she pulls away from him.

"I'm sorry," she rasps, her voice still emotional. "Sometimes the nightmares…"

"It's okay Liv," he tells her. "I remember. I still have them myself at times," he says rubbing her back.

She nods feeling embarrassed that he's seeing her so affected. They spent a good deal of their partnership trying to hide the more sensitive side of themselves from one another. Olivia and Elliot saved their kindhearted tones for the living victims, making victim notifications or on their significant others. They rarely used them for each other.

He surprises her by reaching up and placing a stray hair behind her ear. It's a tender gesture and he's not usually that way with her unless something bad has happened. When he moves to wipe the tears from her face, she nearly flinches. He's still sitting so close to her when normally he would've distanced himself by now. It's not lost on her that he's shirtless and sitting on her bed at two in the morning either.

Usually when they stare at one another the way they are, something interrupts them. A phone call, Cragen telling them they have another case or a victim walks in but this time, all they hear is the rain.

"I'll be right back," he says, suddenly getting up.

Moments later he returns with a towel, wet with cold water. Elliot uses it to wipe the sweat from her forehead and the tears from her cheeks.

"Thank you," she says as he finishes. Olivia can't contain her curiosity anymore, she has to ask.

"Why tonight El," she begins. "Why did you decide to come by tonight," she asks, taking the towel from him laying it on her night table.

For the first time since seeing him outside her door, she notices his lack of a wedding ring.

"And where's your ring," she adds.

"Which question do you want me to answer first," he tries, joking.

She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. An expression he recognizes as telling him it's a poor time to joke.

"I came tonight because just like when Sonja died, I had this overwhelming feeling that you needed me," he says, eying her sincerely. "Turns out I was right."

She takes a breath, folding her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Olivia can't really disagree.

"And the ring," she presses.

"I took it off," he says, being obvious.

"Come on Elliot," she begins. "What happened between you and Kathy?"

"Too much time together after too much time apart," he explains. "We didn't know each other anymore," he continues. "It felt like we were roommates raising a kid together."

"Marriage counseling, therapy at your parish," she asks. "None of that helped."

"There was no need this time," he says. "We both knew the answer. No one's angry and we're both free to find someone that makes us happy."

"I'd say I was sorry but you don't seem all that broken up about it," she tells him, studying his expression in the candle lit room.

"I'm not," he says, honestly. "But enough about me, how've you been?"

They aren't partners anymore. She has nothing to lose by telling him the truth.

"Let's see, after losing Sonja then Sister Peg," she begins. "My partner of thirteen years retires without warning and ignores me when I try to talk to him about it, I get two new people to train, I had to end a relationship with a good man because of a conflict of interests, my brother's in jail and I just let a murdering pedophile go free. So, not so well," she concludes.

"And I'd say I was sorry but it doesn't sound like a strong enough word for the pain I know I caused you," he tells her.

Since when does Elliot Stabler tell her how he feels about anything that isn't case related? She's guesses now. They're entering new territory with all this honesty and sharing. But if he can do it, so can she.

"It hurt having to hear that from the captain," she tells him. "In the event you decided to retire I pictured it going a little differently and…I was angry for awhile. But then I remembered how you must've felt when I went to Oregon and Computer Crimes without a word. The difference is…I came back."

"And I'm glad you did," he says, surprising her. He's never said that to her before. The timing of her leaving along with his wife left him too angry. "Because I missed you…both times," he clarifies.

"Me too," she tells him, sharing another long look. "I still do," she adds, nearly whispering and looking away.

"Why'd you leave," he asks, taking one of her hands in his.

He's just one surprise after another. They aren't undercover. And he's touched her more tonight than he had their entire partnership.

"That was years ago Elliot," she begins. "Why are you bringing this up?"

"Because I think there was a misunderstanding outside of that hospital room that we never addressed," he tells her tracing his thumb over her knuckle.

She knows that she should stop him but can't deny that it feels good.

"We talked outside your apartment after the Sennet case," she says, mesmerized by his ministrations. It's soothing, calming even. "You said you didn't feel comfortable speaking your mind around me anymore for fear it would cost us our partnership."

"That was bull Liv," he confesses. "I knew getting closer to you would end our partnership. I couldn't take that and the end of my marriage at the same time."

"Clearly you've had some couch time in your retirement," she observes. "Since when do you actually tell me the truth about what you're feeling?"

"Since that 'couch time' helped me realize how unhealthy it is to keep things bottled up. You should try it," he tells her, eying her expectantly.

That's it. She's had enough. Olivia takes her hand back, rolls over to the other side getting out of bed.

"What is this Elliot," she asks, suddenly angry. "You come here after months because you have a feeling," she says, making air quotes with her fingers. "That I need you."

"And you want to rehash something that happened six years ago," she continues as her breathing increases. "To what end Elliot," she adds. "And what makes you think I even trust you enough to be so honest?"

Elliot slowly gets up from the bed. He's hurt but shouldn't feel so stunned. One hand is at his waist and the other one rests against his forehead in disbelief.

"You don't trust me anymore," he asks, taking two steps towards her before stopping.

"You pulled the rug right out from under me El," she begins. "So forgive me if I'm a little lacking in the trust department where you're concerned."

"You're right," he says, shocking her yet again. Olivia can probably count on one hand the number of times he's said that to her on one hand. "I didn't tell you about retiring because I was scared you'd talk me out of it, I left that very short, lame assed note and I just drop by here tonight unannounced."

He approaches her then, leaving one step between them.

"You deserved better than that and I was an asshole for saying goodbye in that way," he continues. "As a matter of fact, you deserve to take a swing at me."

"Are you mocking me now El," she asks, still annoyed.

"No I'm not," he answers, sincerely. "Go ahead. Slap me, punch me, kick me lady's choice."

"Don't tempt me," she says, attempting to brush past him. He grabs her elbow stopping her and she spins around.

"I'm warning you Elliot," she says in her low tone. "It's after two in the morning, I'm tired and I'm not in the mood. Just go back to the couch."

She attempts to walk away again and he grabs her arm again. This time when she spins around she lands a right hook to his jaw.


	2. Chapter 2

In the wide range of emotions Olivia went through after his departure, anger was definitely one of them. Dealing with his retirement was like going through the seven stages of grief.

But apparently she isn't quite done with the anger stage. Still, as much as she thought about doing so while they were partnered, she's never actually hit him.

Elliot took the punch and recovered well. He stumbled but didn't fall over. Then the power miraculously comes back on and she can see the damage she's done.

"Son of a bitch that hurt," he says, holding his hand to his mouth.

Olivia rushes to the kitchen to fill a towel with ice before returning to her bedroom. She puts the cold compress up to his face.

"I'd say I was sorry," she tells him, inspecting her damage. "But I did warn you. What do you want me to do kiss it and make it better," she asks, rhetorically.

When she looks at him Elliot's eyeing her again like he did before the lights went out and she knows she's said the wrong thing. His eyes darken before he steps into her.

He moves the ice pack she's made him out of the way pulls her close and kisses her, softly and slowly moving his lips over hers. If it's painful for him he doesn't show it. Olivia is the first one to pull away.

"What the hell are you doing," she asks in an unsteady voice, resting her hands against his chest but not pulling out of his embrace completely.

"Letting you kiss it and make it better," he responds, matter of fact.

"If this is your idea of a joke-"

Olivia is cut off by Elliot kissing her again. This time he suckles on her bottom lip before slipping his tongue in her mouth, tasting her fully. Olivia can't deny the warmth that's spreading throughout her body or that she's kissing him back. She's lightheaded and her heart's beginning to race. Still, she has the presence of mind to pull away again.

"Elliot," she says, breathlessly. For her own sake she takes two steps back out of his arms and out of the vicinity of his mouth. "What is this," she asks, sincerely confused.

"Just-tired of leaving things between us," he explains. "I've cared about you more than a partner should, more than a friend should for a long time," he continues. "I just needed you to know that."

"I know that Elliot, I've always known," she confesses. "But you were my married partner from day one," she says. "I've never wanted to interfere with that."

"You could've said something that night after the Sennet case," he tells her. "I'd just told you I'd signed the divorce papers."

She sighs deeply and moves to sit at the foot of the bed. Olivia scrubs her hands over her face feeling like it's the longest night of her life.

"I'd just come back from Oregon Elliot," she reminds him. "We fought like cats and dogs on that case and we were learning to trust one another again," she continues.

"With your marriage ending do you really think it was a good time to bring up that I left because I was feeling too much?"

Elliot takes a breath before sitting next to her. He knows he was an emotional mess back then. It's half the reason he ended up going back to his almost ex-wife at the time and getting her pregnant again.

"No, I guess not," he acknowledges. "I was still dealing with not living in the same house with my kids and being newly single."

"So what you're saying is I was right," she asks, giving him a small smile. He can't help but return it.

"Yes Olivia, you were right-again." he tells her, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Now that I have my shit together," he begins. "Would it be okay if we met for coffee or something sometime," he asks, shyly looking down at their hands.

She looks down at the sweet gesture, feeling like she's thirteen again and on her first date with Tommy Baker.

She doesn't think she's ever seen shy Elliot before. It's kind of cute.

"Are you asking me out Stabler," she says, grinning.

"Not if you're gonna say no," he responds, running his thumb over her knuckles.

"You don't think we already know each other too well for that?"

"Maybe we should just skip straight to the sex," she adds, teasing him. "Just get it over with."

He looks up at her with huge eyes and raised eyebrows. She's able to hold it in for about two seconds before his expression makes her burst out laughing. Before too long they're both laughing. It's good. It's cleansing in a better way than the rain was.

"Okay, okay," she says, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. "I really have to get to sleep now. One of us has to get ready for work in about five hours."

"Alright I'm goin'," he tells her, getting up from the bed. He stops in her doorway and eyes the sofa then watches as she gets back under the covers. "Liv?"

"Yeah El," she responds, getting comfortable.

"I'm glad we talked," he tells her, stalling.

"Me too," she says, smiling at him before turning on her side. A few seconds later and she notices he's still standing there.

"Liv?"

"What is it Elliot," she asks, beginning to be annoyed.

"You're sofa is really uncomfortable," he tells her, hoping she'll get the hint.

She sits up in her bed and sees the pitiful look he's giving her. Olivia shakes her head in disbelief. She can't believe what she's about to say.

"Go blow out all the candles first," she tells him.

Elliot disappears lightening fast and blows out all the candles like Superman. He returns moments later with an apprehensive look on his face. Should he stay above the covers or get beneath them with her?

Olivia turns over and sees him standing on the other side of the bed. She sees his hesitation but doesn't know what it's for. He's the one who asked to sleep in _her_ bed after all.

"What's wrong now?"

"I just didn't know if I should sleep on top of the covers or not," he tells her, honestly.

She eyes him like he's being ridiculous.

"I trust you not to pounce on me during the night Elliot," she says, and it's a huge weight off his shoulders. Then she pulls the covers back so that he can slide in.

He smiles, gets in and covers up careful to stay on his side of the bed. Elliot lies on his back, folding his arms beneath the pillow under his head. After a few minutes of listening to the deluge outside, they're both asleep.

Five minutes before her alarm goes off, no matter what's happened the night before, how little or how much sleep she's gotten, Olivia has a habit of waking up. The patter of rain has become silent in the morning hours as sunlight breaks through her window.

Just under her nose she smells a familiar aftershave. She hears a soft, deep breathing beneath her ear. She feels a strong arm around her waist and a hand resting against her hip. As she lays there against her former partner's chest, Olivia can't tell who gravitated towards whom. They're both lying in the middle of the bed.

By the way he's breathing, she can tell that he's awake too.

"You feeling any better," he asks, moving his hand from her hip to rub her back. It's soothing, comforting and it feels like the most natural thing in the world that he's the one doing it.

Even though it was just a few hours, she can't remember the last time she woke up from such a peaceful sleep. He seems to have done a better job at consoling her than the wine.

"Yeah," she tells him, honestly. Olivia knows that she and the rest of the squad tried everything they could to nail Nathan Robinson or get him to confess. It just wasn't enough this time. "But we know he's not gonna stop unless we get him," she says.

"I wish I could help," he tells her.

She sits up and looks at him then.

"You've helped me," she expresses to him. "Just being here to talk to, knowing you understand," she adds rubbing his stomach. "It's what I wish I had waiting for me at home after every hard case."

He wants to tell her that that can be arranged but nothing between them has ever been that easy.

Before he can respond her phone's alarm goes off. Olivia rolls out of bed to prepare for work. While she's showering and getting ready he's surprised to find that she actually has food in her refrigerator.

He makes her eggs and toast with a side of fruit and some coffee. Twenty minutes later Olivia emerges freshly showered with her hair and make-up done as gorgeous as he remembers.

She takes the coffee cup he's drinking from, takes a sip and hands it back to him. Then she grabs her keys and her purse before making a beeline for the door.

"Wait," he says, stopping her. "I made breakfast."

"Thank you for going through the trouble," she says, noticing the food on her counter for the first time. "But you know I don't do breakfast."

"I'll put some coffee in a mug with a lid then," he says, moving back into the kitchen.

"Okay," she says, looking at her watch. "You're gonna make some woman a good wife one day," she tells him as she watches the care he puts into making sure the lid is on tight.

"Ha, ha," he says handing her the mug. "Just one more thing," he tells her.

"What's that," she asks, eying her watch again. "I'm gonna be-"

Elliot holds her face in both his hands cutting her off with a kiss. A deep, smoldering, thorough kiss that gets the type of thing going that she doesn't have time for. He tastes like her Columbian dark roast.

"…late," she says, breathily. "What was that for," she asks, grinning as he takes a step back.

"I don't wanna go back to pretending like I don't need you in my life," he explains. "_Or_ that the way I want you isn't the least bit partner or friend like," he finishes, causing blush to color her face.

"I think I get that," she begins, touching a hand to her lips. "But what I need…is to take this slow."

Even as the words fall from her lips, she doesn't know if she can actually do that. The man has been ingrained in her very existence for so long that she barely remembers her life before Elliot. But the months she's had without him has given her the patience to ease back into getting to know him again.

"If it means you letting me back into your life," he says, caressing her face before taking a step back. "I'll take things as slowly as you want."

"Okay," she says.

"I'll lock up when I leave, if my key still works," he tells her, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her.

"It does," she informs him, giving him a small smile. "Bye El," she adds, finally opening the door.

"Bye Liv," he says, letting her leave.

Olivia's limbs don't feel quite as heavy as they did last night. The sun is out, the traffic is moving and she makes it to work on time.

"Morning Liv," says Fin. "You look like you're in a better mood than you were in last night."

"It's amazing what a restful night can do for you," she tells him, sitting at her desk and booting up her computer.

"And there is something to be said for drowning your sorrows in a couple of beers too," he responds.

She smiles before the phone on her desk begins to ring.

"SVU, Benson," she says to the caller. Her pens seem to have all disappeared as she goes on the search for one.

She opens her purse to look for one and sees the familiar handwriting of Elliot on the memo paper from her apartment. The pen sits next to the note so she grabs it to jot down the information from her phone call.

Olivia nods her good morning to Nick and Amanda as they come in. She has a feeling she should read Elliot's note in private so she locks her purse in her drawer and heads upstairs to the cribs.

Surprisingly no one has stayed overnight so she's alone. She picks out a bunk and takes a seat atop the gray NYPD issued blanket.

Outside simply has her name scrawled in his chicken scratch handwriting. Inside is a bit longer than the last note he'd written to her. It looks as if he's taken his time so that she'd actually be able to read it.

_**Liv, the last note I sent you should've gone something like this:**_

_**For all the things that were left unsaid while we worked together, I hope you know how honored I was to call you my partner for twelve years. **_

_**You were honest with me even when I didn't want to hear it. You stood by me putting your neck, your job and your pension on the line more times than I care to count. **_

_**Kathy and Eli are alive because of you. Kathleen got the treatment she needed because of you. You'll never know how grateful I am for saving my family, for saving me. **_

_**I look forward to expressing just how much your faith, your loyalty and your friendship have meant to me. I know I don't deserve it but I hope you still have room for me in your life. **_

_**E l**_

It's a good thing she decided to move to a more secluded place. Her eyes have become moist reading the letter. If she would've gotten something like that from him the first time, it would've still hurt but the blow would've been softened.

Olivia takes a moment to herself. She blots at her tears, touches up her make-up, stuffs the note in her front pocket then exits the cribs to rejoin her squad in the bullpen.

She reads and rereads the note from him at least once throughout the day. It's still difficult to believe that her former partner put such heartfelt words to paper…for her.

A week goes by and Elliot honors her request to take things slowly. He calls a few times to ask how she's doing but has to leave messages because she's in the middle of something. By the time she gets them it's always late and she doesn't want to wake him. Needless to say the ball is effectively in her court.

Olivia walks into another missing little girl Thursday morning.

Seven year-old Angelina Jimenez is taken from Washington Square Park while her divorced parents argued over who was going to get to take her trick or treating when Halloween rolls around. They realize she's gone after calling out her name and searching for about ten minutes.

When they give Olivia the picture she nearly chokes on the resemblance the little girl has to Jenna McFarlane. She knows the team has less than seventy two hours to find her or she'll share the same fate.

She leaves messages for Elliot when she's able but her main focus is to find Angelina. Fin, Olivia and the rest of the detectives sleep very little over the next twenty four hours and eat a variety of meals out of delivery cartons and snack machines before finally catching a break.

A gas station attendant remembers Nathan Robinson come into his place to buy gas in the black Ford Bronco shown on various news outlets. When he filled the truck up for him he tells Nick and Olivia that there was a little girl in the back seat covered up with a blanket as if she was sleeping.

"She was more than likely drugged," she tells Nick following a hunch and checking rental cabins near the gas station.

"I'm gonna call it in," Nick informs her. "Cragen will have state troopers meet us there," he says.

Olivia just nods anticipating a confrontation with Robinson. She knows the type of sexual predator he is. He'll kill the young girl and them himself just to stay out of prison. He's been there, he knows what it's like and his sexual proclivities weren't cured. The only thing Nathan Robinson learned in his so called rehabilitation program is how to get better and not getting caught.

They arrive at the cabins just before the troopers. Nick and Olivia enter the office and question the clerk to find out which cabin Robinson has rented. They show the middle aged red head a picture and she id's him right away.

"Sorry didn't recognize him," she tells them. "We don't watch much television up here. That's why people come, to get away from it all," she adds reaching for a key to the cabin. "That'll be number 31," she advises. "I didn't see a little girl though."

"Thanks ma'am," Nick tells her. "Just send the troopers our way when they show up."

Nick and Olivia surreptitiously creep towards the cabin on foot after parking the brown unmarked Crown Victoria a quarter mile or so away. There's but one way into the cabin and they need to make sure Angelina is safe before they just kick the door in.

They spot Robinson unloading supplies from the SUV apparently having no intentions of returning to the city. The two detectives surprise the suspected murderer. With his last trip to the vehicle he picks up the little girl wrapped in a blanket.

"Stop right there Robinson," she tells him.

He immediately produces a gun jamming it into the little girl's side not caring if he was hurting her. Angelina wakes up and begins whimpering.

"Shut up you little bitch!"

Olivia sees Nick approaching behind Robinson unbeknownst to him.

"It's okay sweetheart," she tells the little girl trying to calm her. "Don't cry you'll be okay."

"Yeah," says the pedophile. "We'll both be okay right after we get the hell outta here."

"You know we can't just let you leave," Olivia tells him as two state trooper cars pull up. "Look around Nathan, just let the girl go and come in," she advises as the additional officers draw their guns on him as well.

"Fuck that! Soon as I let this little whore go I lose my bargaining chip and I'm dead!"

"No one's gonna shoot you Nathan," she tells him calmly. "We're all going to lower our weapons so you don't feel threatened anymore," she says eyeing the state troopers.

They lower their weapons seeing Amaro advancing on the man.

"Just put her down," she tells him so that Nick can get a clean shot without worrying about accidentally hitting Angelina. "If your gun goes off accidentally you lose your bargaining chip," she explains.

After taking a moment to contemplate his situation coupled with the fact that the little girl is becoming increasingly heavy, Robinson decides to lower her to the ground.

"That's good Nathan," she says, watching tears stream down Angelina' face. "It's gonna be okay sweetie just close your eyes," she tells her not wanting her to see the man fall.

Before Robinson realizes that he's dropped his human shield, Nick takes the opportunity to take the shot. He effectively drops the man right next to where the little girl stands.

Angelina runs into Olivia's arms while Amaro and the troopers descend on Nathan Robinson taking his gun and hauling him to his feet. Nick shot him through the shoulder of his gun hand. He would not get to enjoy his 'death by cop' as the pedophile likely planned. If the criminal justice system works they way that it should this time, Robinson will spend the rest of his life behind bars.

Olivia sits in a darkened squad room typing up the last of her report. With Nathan Robinson in Rikers and Angelina safely back with her parents, she has to call today a win. She can only hope the prick spent his time planning his getaway rather than harming the young girl in anyway.

He is a welcome sight as she comes down the corridor of her apartment. Elliot is standing outside her door with a brown bag in his hand. He smiles at her causing a grin to spread across her face in return.

"It's late El," she tells him opening her door. "What are you doing here," she asks him laying her keys on the counter.

"Asked the desk sergeant to call me when you walked out," he informs her. "I figured you hadn't eaten," he tells her.

"So you came over here at," she pauses to look at her watch. "Eleven forty-three at night to feed me," she asks with a raised eyebrow watching him remove the take-out from the bag.

"No," he says abandoning the food on the counter to approach her. "I also thought you could use one of these," he says, pulling her into a hug.

She's the one to tighten the embrace this time, putting her arms around his neck. Olivia takes a minute to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms, the way he smells of fabric softener and aftershave and the simple dose of comfort that she's been lacking in her life.

"You were right," she whispers, leaning her soft cheek against his clean shaven face as he rubs her back. "I did need this."

"Not half as much as I did," he tells her as he leans back to take her in. She looks mentally and physically wiped out. "Long day," he asks, releasing her to heat up her late dinner.

"Yes," she acknowledges. "El wait," she says, pausing him in his actions.

"I'm too tired to eat," she tells him conceding to what he already knew to be true. He nods putting the container back in the bag.

"I'll just put this in the fridge before I go and you can take it for lunch tomorrow," he suggests.

With her schedule who knows how long it'd be before they see each other again. Olivia thinks back to last week and how she felt waking up in his arms. As strong a person as she is, as strong a woman as she knows she is…he made her feel safe, comforted, loved.

"You don't have to leave right away El," she tells him. "Just give me a minute to change okay," she asks him. "I'll be right back."

Olivia changes into her bed clothes, brushes her teeth and joins Elliot on her sofa. He sits in the middle with his arms spread along the backside and his head tilted back with his eyes closed. He seems a bit tired himself.

"You running around after Eli all day," she asks him, sitting right next to him on the couch and patting his thigh.

He puts an arm around her as he answers. "Yeah," he tells her as he yawns. "That kids a hand full."

"You're just getting old," she kids him.

"Hey if I'm getting old, you're getting," he begins.

"I'd be careful with how you finish that sentence if I were you," she advises leaning into him.

"I was gonna say more beautiful by the day," he responds then plants a lingering kiss on her temple.

"Nice save Stabler," she tells him. After a few moments of silence she speaks up again. "I…found your note."

"I'm glad," he says. "I rewrote it like six times before I felt like I had it right," he admits.

"Thank you for taking the time to write it," she says laying her hand on his stomach. "I think I needed it."

"You're welcome," he tells her. "I meant every word Liv, I can't apologize enough for how I left things and I'm so s-"

This time she's the one that interrupts his words with a kiss. It's tender and unhurried. She turns, laying her hand against his face to better control things. Elliot threads his hands through her soft auburn hair, resisting the urge to lay her down.

As they pull apart to breathe she smiles at him.

"I know you're sorry El," she informs him. "I can hear it in your voice, can tell by the messages you leave when we miss each other's calls, the way you hold me, kiss me," she says eying his lips again but controls herself.

"I should probably get going," he says releasing her to get up.

"Actually I was hoping you'd sleep here," she says grabbing his hand. "Just sleep," she adds eying him seriously.

"I don't know," he says grinning. "What if I can't trust you with my virtue," he asks.

"I'm pretty sure we're both too tired for anything but sleep," she answers laughing at his silliness leading him by the hand into her bedroom.

She finds Elliot some sweat pants and a t-shirt he'd left there from one of many times they'd gone running together. After he's changed he slides in next to her lying on his back with his arms folded beneath the pillow.

Olivia doesn't hesitate to roll into him laying her head on his chest and her arm over his stomach.

"I think you're using me like a big old teddy bear," he tells her putting an arm around her pulling her in closer.

"And you're problem with that is what," she asks, smiling up at him as her eyes get heavier.

"None at all," he says kissing the top of her head. "I'm available for weekends, holidays, overnight stays," he continues hearing her laugh against him. "Or if you're just having a bad day."

"You sure you're up for that," she asks. "It could get time consuming."

"I'll make time," he tells her rubbing a thumb against the skin of her waist. The rhythm is soothing causing her to fall asleep altogether. When he thinks she's really sleeping he chances telling her.

"I love you," he whispers.

She just smiles contentedly and slips deeper into a blissful slumber absent of nightmares.

**Hope you guys enjoyed the story. Let me know with a review either way. Please and thank you.**


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